Taylor had all but hoped she had hidden herself away. Disappeared from those who hunted her. Rather those debt that her father left her with. She was only 11 when her father involved himself with a man known as Mr.Brada. withing two years her fathers debt to the man had grown ridiculously. The amount of money, the drinking gambling and woman. She was young, but not so young she couldn't figure out what was happening. She watched him spiral out of control. She watched Brada's men come to their home and... well make her father aware he needed to pay. The next morning her was gone. Her father had left. A week before christmas and a house full of things that didnt belong to them. She was 13, what was a poor innocent child to do when abandoned. The men showed up, told her they would take her to Mr.Brada. so young ahe thought it was the only option. And then she heard them whispering. The words that filled her with fear. She was to be sold? Or had her father sold her? Her heart sank as she realized just how abandoned she was. She ran. She was only 13. The world is harsh to those kinds of orphans.

She grew up, becoming no one. Taylor hardly remembered her old name. It had been 11 years and she had found herself a home. Her birthday was this weekend. Her and some friends were going to go out. She had all but forgotten her issues. She was happy. Each day went by. She owned a small cafe where she did something she loved, wrote music in her spare time. That was when he showed up. Sitting down at the bar in her small cafe. She had no idea. Her world was about to be burnt to the ground.

Taylor smiled that sweet bubbly smile as she walked over. The mans cool blue eyes stared back at her. "Ms.Smith?" He questioned and Taylor blinked a bit confused. "Yes. How may I help you?" She spoke in a gentle manner as the man eyed her. Pulling out a card and slipping it across the counter. "Your name use to Madeline Cosine. It was fairly hard to find you. But I was hired by someone whom you owe." Taylor's face paled instantly at the name. A name so far lost, locked away in memories she had hoped to forget. It was hard to breath as she looked at the man and then back at the card. "My name is Taylor. Don't call me by any other name." She growled slightly and could feel the small tremble in her hands begin. Trying to keep herself from running out the door was next to impossible. She should have known better than to get comfortable. "My name is Issacc Driggs and I am here to make you aware that you are to meet Mr.Brada, on his own terms, this weekend. Meet him and things might not get out of hand anymore than they are Ms.Smith." he slipped from the stool and let himself out, leaving a teary eyes, angry blonde behind as he did. How had he found her?

Weekend ruined. Taylor sat in her house, leaving a cofounder to run the shop. Said family things came up. In a sense they had. Long deep buried secrets she had planned to stay burried. She wondered just how long he had been waiting. How long had he known she was here hiding. Tears fell down her cheeks. She hated money, despised those like her father, too weak to say no. She loathed the men who enabled them. Rich, pompous men who brought the downfall of men like her father. She pulled out a dress. One she had been saving for her birthday. Now meant for a meeting with a man she had come to loathe, whom she had tried to erase from her existence.

Dressed up, hair done, simple black dress on and plans cancelled. She slipped on the brilliant purple heels as a knock came to the door. Lifting her head, Taylor walled to the door and opened it. Two men in well tailored suits stood before her. One held out his hand, she took it. She didn't have a choice, it was go with them or be dragged. Led to the beautiful black sleek car she climbed in, beginning her long awaited fate. The drive was long, full of anxiety and heart racing. When they arrived she could hardly bring herself to exit the car. The door opened and she just faced forward, almost in shock. Unable to encourage herself to leave that car.

A hand reaches down from the dusk. The black sleeve of the suit all but visible against the indigo blue of the sky a half hour after sunset. It's a strong hand, the kind that has been put through the type of work that most people find unpleasant. Large fingers and calloused knuckles, a fighter's hand. "Let's go miss. We shouldn't keep Mr. Braga waiting. He's a man who loves punctuality."

The drive was long. An hour or so out of the city, but time has a way of slowing down or speeding up when it wants to. It seemed to take forever to navigate the stop lights and turns through the busy city streets. It was late afternoon then. The sun low and casting long shadows from skyscrapers that would darken their neighbors unless the difference in height would offer a blinding reflection of sunlight against the steel and glass.

Once out of the city the sun seemed to increase it's rate of descent. The light offering one last bright band of orange on the horizon behind only broken by the fading city skyline. The highway may have been miles upon miles but time again chooses it's own measure. The exit comes quickly. A short drive along a single lane road and then another turn is taken. The stones of the gravel road popped and crackled underneath the tires until they slowly fade as the car rolled to a stop.

Absolutely not. She would have this happen. That tone he just took with her. She was quiet exiting the car. Slipping out in a quivk motion, however her hands went straight to his belt, slipping the concealed knife out of its hiding place and pressed it against his throat. His hands had her wrist,but she already had his throat. "Speak to me like that again. I DARE YOU." She hissed back at him. Her eyes narrowing. "I came of my own will, someone who has been a ghost for at least 8 years. Someone who has evaded nasty men like yourself. If you keep it up I'll disappear and then you can explain to Mr.Brada why I am gone." Her voice was dangerous as she released him and tossed the knife into the bushes. That cold look in her eyes not one anyone would have seen in a long time, but then Taylor had raised herself on the streets, she was not some easy target.

Turning from the man she began her quick, smooth stride to the door. It was opened for her and she was guided to... well the dining hall. Of course. She was moved to one of the seats closest to the head of the table. Sitting down she sat in utter silence. No man, only diningware. She shifted uncomfortably when he finally enteres. Tall, dark.. he wasnt what she had expected. He was much younger,or at least he looked it. She couldnt tear her eyes from him. That elegant stance, beautiful eyes. Eventually she managed to pull her eyes away from him, glancing to the empty plate. "Mr.Brada." her voice was a hoarse whipser as she felt the nerves from earlier rising again.

"Good evening Madeline. May I call you Madeline? That is your name if I remember correctly." Mr. Braga's voice clear and succinct. Perfect grammar with only a touch of an accent. Not a common accent heard in this part of the country but definitely something European. He moves to a corner of the dining hall where an ornate wooden cabinet stands majestically. Taller than Mr. Braga and about a couple of feet wide, it's rich cherry wood inlaid with scroll carvings. He opens the door and searches for something. Glass clinking is heard until finally, "Ah, there you are." His hand finds a bottle of single malt scotch aged 25 years. His other grips two short rock glasses together by their inner rims. He controls the space he occupies as he makes his way to the large dining table.

"A drink? I do enjoy a fine scotch. The smokiness of it reminds me of a campfire. Warm and inviting, easy to lose oneself in." He places a glass down in front of Taylor first then his. It makes that distinct noise, the sudden solid smack on wood. "Where are my manners, do you drink scotch? Or would you prefer something else?" He doesn't wait for an answer and is already pouring her a drink.

She flinched at the sound of her name coming from his lips. She really did despise that name. Everything about it reminded her of the awful place she had come from. She shot him a cold stare as he seemed just far too proud of himself. "You may not. It is not a person I acknowledge. That little girl erased herself. My name is Taylor and that is the way its going to stay." She firmly made it clear how much fire burned behind that submissive demeanor. She refused to be bent. when that glass clinked against the wood table she couldn't help but flinch. The way he had set it down was in such a distinct manner she found herself with chills crawling up her spine. Every hair standing on end as he made his way to where he was in front of her. speaking about scotch and manners and then he began to pour. There wasn't even a moment where she could have answered the rigged question. Instead she watched the scotch fill the glass. Her silence was deafening after her small growl.

As he took his and sipped she then did the same. She couldn't wrap her head around his intentions. She really could barely get over the fact of how dominating this man's presence was. He not only commanded the room he was dangerous. The small air of pride surrounded him. he knew his power and she almost resented it immediately. She chugged the scotch setting the glass down and pushing it away. "I drank, now get to the part where you tell me why I am here. I would really like to know.@RidleyOrion

Mr. Braga circled the table as he spoke. A shark sizing up it's prey. Looking for a weakness. Waiting for a perfect moment to attack and devour. A long slow circle until he is standing behind Taylor. The single ice cube spins in his glass as he twirls it around to cool the scotch. The sound of ice on glass is interrupted by his voice.

"Were it that easy. Change a name, change q life." His left hand finds the space between her shoulder blades as he bends to place his glass in the table near her right hand. Clack! The sound of glass purposely placed on wood. Twice now, the distinct sound's only purpose is to demand attention.

His face draws nearer to Taylor's right ear. "Call yourself whatever you want but it does not change the debt owed to me by your father. 11 years ago you were the recompense for his debt. Things would've been different for you if you came. You'd be my ward. Raise you like my own if you will. It would've been a good life for you." A finger sweeps a strand of hair behind her ear, exposing a delicate earlobe. His lips slowly close the distance and brush up against her cheek near her ear. "But now, I have other ideas for you."

Her breath hitched as his lips fell on her skin. He was making sure she was aware of how bad she fucked up. Though who could vlame a little girl when she heard the words sold. She turned just as fast her head snapped around bringing his lips fairly close to her own. "Excuse me for being a scared child, trying to escape whatever fate it was that being Sold meant at that time." She shoved her chair back, missing him but she stood rather quickly to face him while he was caught off guard. "I was 13, my father was a drunk gambler. All the sudden I was in a rich life. Bug men show up talking about me being sold. What the hell would you have thought as a young child. The horror stories one hears. Stop acting as if I ran from some kind of privilege." She her chest was rising and falling erratically her eyes were ablaze with emotion.

"Holding me accountable, a thirteen year pld girl for my father's mistakes. Taking a child as some sort of payment. What kind of man could you have possibly been but a monster in my mind." She was in his face at this point, obviously upset. Her finger having tapped his chest each point she made. "Maybe your prideful self shpuld have come yourself. Maybe if you hadnt sent two of the dumbest, bulkiest men to muscle their way around a young child I wouldnt have had to run." Realizing how close she was she took a step back. Letting out a heavy breath and stepping back once more. "Ever imagine that this misunderstanding was your own fault, Mr.Braga. This debt my father owes, why am I required to pay it. I never made this deal, nor did I ever intend to be the payment." She finished her statement turned and took Mr.Braga's class downing his scotch as well as she tried to calm herself from the explosion that had just happened. Hell she had a temper sometimes.@RidleyOrion